Crazy is as Crazy does...

Well I took the blog private for a while as some of you probably saw. I honestly don't know if anybody will still think to check back and see if I'm here. If not, that's ok. But lately I've had the urge to write, so here I sit again staring at this screen and it fills me with a little anxiety. I always feel like I have to entertain. I have to be wittier and have better pictures and funnier stories. I feel this responsibility to entertain which is silly because this is my family journal, my personal journal (as personal as a blog can be...ha!) and it's really just supposed to be a place to write my thoughts and feelings and memories down and figure out my everyday life right?

Anyway, lately I feel this need to change. If we're being honest here...I really don't like myself much. Now don't get me wrong. I think I'm basically a good person. I try to be kind, I love my family, I try not to break any laws, I like small fluffy animals and rainbows and unicorns. But deep at the heart of it all there's something there that whispers that I can do more, be more.

I think we've talked about this before, you and I, but anyway...For years I have been plagued by clinical depression. I've been on happy pills for most of our marriage and it's really never bothered me to have to take a pill to be happy until now. A diabetic takes insulin, I take Happy Pills. Now that Matt is self employed we have somewhat crappy insurance. Now my magic pills cost $308.00/mo. Yes, you read that right. Every month when I go in to refill my prescription the Pharmacist looks at me and asks, "Do you have any insurance to help with this?!" I say, "Yes but we're self employed so it's limited." I inform him that because I take the meds for depression our ins. won't cover them because what? Depression is all in my head? Ha. K, I guess it is...not what I meant. It's just not a real ailment apparently. Yeah, don't get me started. Anyhoo, then the poor man looks at me terribly sympathetically and informs me of the price to which I smile, because it's not his fault that it costs so much, and I swipe my card. While my purchase is being approved by the debit card gods in the card machine he asks if I have tried anything else to which I answer, "I've tried everything else." Even then I feel a need to please, to smooth it over for him so that he doesn't feel bad charging me. Here's the deal though, I really have tried everything else. This is like the 10th form of antidepressant that I've tried. This is it, the last straw before I have to look for other options. Stronger meds with stronger side effects that have to be doled out by specialists because my little brain just wouldn't soak up the "normal" stuff. Now add in the fact that I was also diagnosed with ADD this past year (which looking back has effected everything for as long as I can remember-and no it's not ADHD although maybe I'd benefit from some hyperactivity to light a fire under me!) and I have an almost comical difficulty getting anything productive done at all!

So back to the happy pills-I've been looking for alternatives. The soft-spoken woman at the natural foods store suggested that I start taking the homeopathic anxiety pills that Madison takes along with St. John's Wart. It worked for her she tells me, so that's what I'm trying now. Granted it will still be around $100.00/mo. for the homeopathic route but that's better than $300 and I sure won't miss the side effects or withdrawal symptoms when I run out for a day or two. So far it seems to working. I'm taking 1 of my reg meds a day instead of 2 now and the new stuff seems to be picking up the slack. I'm throwing some L-Tyrazine in there for the ADD and it's some days I'm starting to actually feel a little focused. We'll see... I'm also looking into nutrition and other aggravators (Diet Coke and sugar???).

Why did I go off into a tangent on depression and ADD? Well because in my world, they affect everything. They're the voices in my head telling me all day long that I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not organized enough, not talented enough, not pretty enough, not funny enough....you name it, I'm not enough. But lately, I've gotten a little tired of those voices. I've gotten tired of being tired-mentally and physically. When you're depressed and/or have ADD it's really easy to stay in bed all day and sleep because that way you don't have to acknowledge that it all got too overwhelming and you dropped the ball once again and nothing got done. The laundry is still in a heap on the laundry room floor, the dishes are still stacked in the kitchen sink and the housekeeping fairies didn't come vacuum while I slumbered. Some days just waking up at some point feels like a chore by itself!

I've had people tell me that if I hadn't have told them about it that they would never have known that I suffer from depression. I'm good at putting on a happy face when others are around. Who wants to be known as Debbie Downer ya know? But here, in my home I'm just me, craziness and all.

Know who I want to be? I want to be the homemaker that gets out of bed in the morning and fills optimistic about the day. I want to have the motivation and energy to accomplish things. I want there to be clean undies for everyone and no signs of 3 day old syrup dried on the table. I want to go to a parent/teacher conference without feeling guilty because I have not been on top of things enough, again, to make sure that homework got done. I want my kids to ask,  "what's for dinner?" and  not get excited just because it doesn't come from a drive-thru window or was made by just adding water. I want my husband to come home to clean bathrooms and clean towels and a wife who still has some enthusiasm left for him. I want to remember things and be able to focus on a task and actually complete it and not have to take 2 "brain health" days off for every one day that I'm productive. I want to be able to handle my home and family and some other projects/callings/hobbies/whatever.  Right now anything outside of the basics feels basically impossible. Add in the fact that Matt's schedule right now is CUH-RAZY and it's the perfect storm for insanity!

I know, I know, Debbie Downer right? But back to the beginning of this rambling post. There's that little voice that's telling me that I'm tired of just surfing this exhausting "mental illness" wave and it's time to find my mojo. You've heard that saying, "Ain't nobody happy if Mama ain't happy!"? Well it's true. I feel like my own insanity just causes more chaos in our home. I want them to feel like I've got it under control (well, most of the time anyway!).

So I suppose that the whole point of this is to think out loud. There will be posts coming about new systems, both for me and my family, new habits that will hopefully make our family's daily life make a little more sense (along with a few more rants as well!). I'm reading books about overcoming and living with ADD/Depression and hopefully these new homeopathic meds will do the job too so that I can put the money saved on them towards dinners that require more than just some added water! Although, you know my friends at McDonalds are really gonna miss my bright sparkling personality if I'm no longer a regular. I'm just sayin'........


Loves!-M






    


    

Tales of a Monday Without My Happy Pills...

Monday was a bad day. Well, actually the last two weeks worth of Mondays have been bad ones. It was a combination of injuring my back twice in those two weeks, disappointment that I don't get to go see my sister (yet) like I had been planning to next week, and the housework closing in on me that I couldn't seem to find the motivation to dive into. It's amazing how much stacks up around you when you are pretty much out of commission for two weeks! My poor hubs did his best to pick up my slack but he works pretty long days so there just wasn't enough hours in each day to get it all done. The kids helped too but in all honesty I didn't make them help with the housework as much as I should of, instead relying on them more to lift and entertain Em when she was needy.

I've felt the funk settling around me for the last week but when I woke up yesterday and felt the fog, the world spinning because I didn't have a "happy pill" to take the night before, I knew that it was gonna be a doozy of a day. Every time I moved my head the world spun around me. Every time the world spun so did my stomach. I cursed the fact that I even have to take the stupid pills in order to be "normal" and that once again I didn't refill it in time to avoid this part of the process. The withdrawal effects strike fast and furious when I miss one and when I finally get some after refilling my prescription I'm like a junkie tearing into the bag, ripping off the bottle's child-proof cap and downing the capsule in one gulp while savoring the relief that the constant feeling of motion sickness will hopefully soon abate.

Em and I headed to the pharmacy, then straight back home where and I surveyed the mess that surrounded me downstairs, opting instead to trudge upstairs and collapse into the rocking chair in her room. I didn't have the energy to keep my breakfast down while doing dishes let alone everything else. "Just make it to lunch and naptime," I told myself. I sat there watching her play, half-heartedly answering her questions and sampling her "creations"  from her kitchen while feeling like I was only partially there, not really focused on anything at all. Somewhere in there an hour or two passed and at last it was lunch time. Chicken and Stars soup was served and at last, bless-ed naptime arrived. I tucked her in with a stuffed giraffe snuggled up to each shoulder and whispered, "I love you..." then snuck out the door. 30 seconds later I was in bed willing the world to please stop spinning. It was so frustrating to finally have my back feel good enough to actually get something done but I was too dizzy to conquer any of the housework calling my name!

I awoke at 4 and immediately groaned knowing that I had let the munchkin sleep way too long and that meant she would be up until 10:00 that night. I realized that the world had stopped it's constant spinning and that if I was careful about how fast I turned my head I could control the somewhat lessened sense of motion sickness (was that even correct grammar? hmmm...). The rest of the day went by at a snails pace. The kids came home from school. Arguments were had, chores were done. Dinner was leftovers cause standing long enough to cook actual food was just too much. Most of my mothering was done from the couch that night though I did trudge up the stairs around 8:30 to tuck the two older ones in bed with the still hyper toddler at my heels.

Thomas asked me to lay with him for a few minutes, he usually does, and I laid there and tried to be present as we discussed his day amidst being jumped on repeatedly by Em. At one point during the conversation T told me that I am the best mom in the world. "If he only knew...," I remember thinking. Of course, I was also very thankful for a little boy who loves me in spite of my.....insanity? Tucking Madison in came next and her beautiful smile as she hugged me goodnight and told me she loved me was such a welcome sight after that long day.

Matt came home sometime later, around 9 I think, and made the mistake of asking how I was doing. Not my back or my withdrawal symptoms, he said, but me. Oy vey! I cried a little while I ate the peanut M&M's he had brought me (I know, he's a keeper) and poured out my woes that are always magnified by the fact that my drugs aren't pumping through my system in their usual fashion. We watched our recorded shows from the DVR and laughed at Em's antics as we counted down the minutes until she would go to bed too, needing some time to ourselves. Finally at 10:00 on the dot the munchkin was changed, given her sippy cup and escorted to bed where she asked to rock in the rocking chair. I obliged, singing her a song that I've known since I was her age, ending abruptly when I couldn't seem to pull the end of the third verse out of my still muddled brain. She yelled "goodnight" and "I love you" through her closed door no less than 5 times to each of us.

I was glad for mind-numbing T.V. that night. It meant I didn't have to think any real thoughts or put together any real sentences. Finally the day was over. I had fought through and won. Maybe not with flying colors, nothing really got done after all, but I had survived and so had my kids.....and on some days, as a mother (especially one who's run out of her "Happy Pills"!), that's all you can ask.






                            

I'm Tired...

Today's one of those days. You know the ones. Where you feel worn out, discouraged, unmotivated? I feel like I am always 2 (or 27) steps behind where I should be as a mother, a wife, a homemaker. I feel like our family has little direction as far as goals and routines and traditions. I feel like my life is a never ending cycle of laundry and dishes etc...and complaining that I get no help with any of it.

My kids (and Matt and I at times too) watch too much TV and eat too much junk food and don't get enough exercise or do enough work or constructive activities. It's hard to balance the letting them just be kids part with the learning and teaching them to work part, ya know? I want them to better recognize their talents and do more things to refine them and serve others with them (and I want to work on mine too!). I want them to know how to clean the bathroom right the first time...and do it!

I've kind of lost enthusiasm for the spiritual side of things in the last year or so also, and have not attended church as often as I should. I have let my habits of regular prayer and scripture study go and have therefore not encouraged my children as I should to pursue their own habits in these areas. It's not that I don't believe in my religion anymore, it's just that I have become well, to be honest, lazy.

So how does one change all this? How do I change not only myself, but help guide my entire family towards growth? I don't like change you know. I like to stay right where I am, where it's comfortable, and I think my kids have inherited that from me. On the other hand, Matt is very goal oriented and it probably drives him crazy that I lack ambition and stick-to-it-ivness (yep, I made that one up). The problem is, he is rarely home during the week and therefore I am the one that has to find the drive to enforce any knew routines, habits, or projects that need to happen in order to get our family where I would like us to be. *sigh*




But I am tired.


And change is hard.

Much less muchy...

I saw the new "Alice and Wonderland" last week. Have you seen it? There's a part where the Mad Hatter tells Alice that she is the right Alice, she's just not as much 'Alice' as she used to be. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asks. "Just that you are much less muchy than you used to be," he answers. In that moment, in that theater, that resonated with me. I frequently feel like I am much less muchy than the "real" Misty (although The Hubster might tell you I'm a bit too much sometimes!:). I feel like there are so many things I used to be and so many things I want to be and the person I am now is just not enough. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I don't really recognize the person I see and I wonder how I became this person. I used to feel pretty and smart and fun. I used to have energy and enthusiasm. I used to be more creative and more motivated to accomplish things. Sometimes I feel like a lost cause. I want to change so many things about me and the way I do things and I get so overwhelmed and discouraged and I do nothing. I get so frustrated that things don't get done around here but I can't find the energy or uninterrupted time to get anything done. I know as mothers we all feel discouraged at times doing the same chores and saying the same things over and over but I've reached a whole new level of discouragement lately. I don't want to do any of it--ever again! How do you overcome that discouragement and be productive?  Some days I feel like if I have to do one more load of laundry, or one more batch of dishes, or read the same lift-the-flap book for the 10th time again, I am going to have a nervous breakdown!


I don't know if you noticed but The Pirate and The Pea are about 6 years apart. No The Pea was not an accident, and I've actually quite enjoyed the gap. The other two are such huge helpers with Em that it's made things so much easier this time around. The problem is I forgot how frustrating it is to get anything done or made or cleaned with a toddler around. For years I counted down the days until Thomas started school so that a) I didn't have to play Play-Doh anymore and b) I could get something done in a timely, efficient manner. I know I probably sound like a terrible mother but this is how I feel. It is so frustrating to clean up one mess while The Pea unloads a cupboard across the room ya know? There are so many projects I would like to get done but every time I try she "helps" and it's just more trouble than it's worth. I am a creative person by nature and I miss having the time/energy/freedom to do anything. So lately I find myself completely discouraged and unmotivated and I just don't get anything but the bare minimum done...it's sucking the life out of me! Every night I lay in bed and think of all the things I would like to change about me and how our household runs and how I spend my time with my kids and how I eat and how often I (don't) exercise and blah blah blah....and the next morning it's all the same. I used to have dreams too. I dreamed of owning my own photography, or wedding planning or gift basket business. I was a Home Stager for about a year. It was so fun! People listened to what I had to say and I used my talents in interior decorating and I got paid to shop! The people who bought one of the houses I had decorated liked it so much they actually paid for everything I had put in the house just so they could keep it the way it was! I know that motherhood and homemaking is so much more important than decorating homes but it sure felt good to know that what I had done was appreciated, admired, worth paying for, and stayed done for an extended period of time....and that I was actually doing something I loved.

I know I'm rambling and I probably sound whiny too. I don't mean to. I know how blessed I am to get to stay home each day to manage our home and raise my kids. I just frequently feel like I am in a position that I am extremely under-qualified for and am hopelessly screwing up! *dramatic sigh* Anyway, now that you have been thoroughly uplifted by todays post I will wrap things up with a promise to The Hubster that I will be here when he gets home tonight, and I will not beat the children in his absence, and I will not be curled up in a fetal position in the corner sucking my thumb and twitching when he gets here.


That's all I have to say about that!

So after I wrote yesterday's post I've been thinking a lot about depression and how it affects me. I don't know if it's the same for others (I'm not them after all) but for me it takes away my enthusiasm and the ability to see the good in life and leaves guilt and confusion and sadness in it's place. Let me explain...When I am having a relapse I can logically see all the good in my life. I have been so blessed with a comfortable life and great kids and an incredible husband. We have good health, a good job, and family and friends that support us. Here's where I get confused and sad and guilty. If I have all of those things then why am I so sad all the time? I know I have a great life so what is my problem? Why can't I just count my many blessings, buck up and be happy? What is wrong with me that I think that if I just have a new this or a better that I will be happy? Why can't I just find the energy to do something I enjoy? I feel so guilty knowing that I have so much and I can't seem to pull myself out of the funk! Then come the tears. Tears of frustration, tears of fear (that I'll never beat this stupid thing), tears for sometimes no reason at all! Then I'm just tired. It's amazing how completely impossible it feels to just put in a load of laundry or read a book to my baby. Anyone who has never suffered from depression can't understand. Years ago, when I was in the middle of Post-Partum depression at it's worst, The Hubster stayed with The Princess one evening. When I came home that night he said to me, "It's weird. After you left I got so tired and just felt 'blah'. All I wanted to do was lay on the floor and it was almost physically impossible for me to get up or do anything at all with the baby. I just wanted her to leave me alone and I couldn't seem to do anything!" That in a nutshell is depression. That experience was an answer to my prayers that night. I had never been able to tell him how I really felt and he had just gotten a little taste!

It's funny, like I mentioned yesterday, I've had problems with depression since I was very young. I saw my first real counselor for self-esteem issues in 2nd grade and my first therapist in Jr. High. I always came out of it though and was a pretty cheerful person. In High School if I wasn't simply smiling in the hall someone would ask me what was wrong!  The depression hit hard after I got married (stupid birth-control), I was no longer the cheerful happy go lucky my husband had known. Then it swallowed me when I had The Princess. Even thinking about that darkness is hard for me. I would beg The Hubster not to go to work because I didn't want to be alone with the baby. Not because I was afraid I would hurt her or anything (although those thoughts did come sometimes) but because I just didn't have the desire or the energy to take care of her. My mom saved me a lot too back then. I would show up at her house and just say, "I don't want to do this anymore." and she would give me a break. I got drugs and it got better-not gone- but better. It came back on a bit smaller scale with The Pirate but we survived. Now you know why there is such a gap between my two youngest! The thought of going back to that kind of despair was so scary for me. I swore we'd never have another. I have to say though, it didn't come with The Pea. Yeah I got a little blue. I was tired. But there's a definite difference between depression and being blue. Things have been great with her. I have been in a great place, productive, happy, upbeat etc. Then the storm started brewing, I felt it coming. It's funny, when you've lived with depression you know what to look for. It's not cured. You don't get better and have it never come back. It's never been as dark as it was with The Princess but it is grey enough to make things hard. The Hubster is so patient (he's stayed with me thus far after all:). He loves me even when the laundry starts to stack up and the dishes don't get done-again, and I spend more money in my search for that elusive thing that will make it all go away. Soon, the cycle will wind down and things will improve and I will be productive again. The most frustrating thing though is just the search for a medication to help. I am chemically depressed. I have seen numerous therapists who have all told me that I will most likely be on medication for the rest of my life to help regulate my serotonin levels. I'm ok with that. Deep down I wish I could just "snap out of it" but I can't and I've accepted that. What I hate is that I have tried like 6 different "happy pills" over the years and they all work for awhile then plateau and I have to start again. It's very discouraging.  But I have 4 very good reasons in my life to keep trying and try I will! Anyway, this post was another think-out-loud kind of post. A journal entry that my kids can read one day to understand why their mom was a nut case!  I really am so grateful for The Hubster and my kids. The Hubster has stuck by me through some really crappy times. I know it will get better again, it always does. I'm going to go put in some laundry now and consider the day a success!

The Rut.

When my kids have a cold they don't usually say they have "a cold", they say they have "The Cold", like it's the plague or something (makes me laugh every time!). I don't have The Cold but I do seem to be stuck in The Rut. I am bored. I have no motivation. Don't get me wrong I have plenty of things that I should do(laundry, dishes, mopping, vacuuming, changing sheets, washing walls, etc., etc.), just nothing I want to do. I lack passion for really anything right now and I don't know if it is my depression rearing it's ugly head again or a bad attitude or what. But I find myself sitting at the computer too much because it's easy or wandering around aimlessly just trying to make myself get things done and it feels like everything is just too HUGE. Too much work. Too much energy required. Too much thought needed. Ugh! Now that I am typing I realize this is definitely my depression talking. It's amazing how when you are depressed, even moderately, everything feels impossible. Even typing this feels so tiring and that just seems PATHETIC! Then I think about it too much and I start to feel guilty that I will most likely pass on depression through my genes to my kids and that makes me feel even worse. Not to mention I start thinking of all the things about myself that I am not happy with and would change and then I get angry that I am not one of those good-attitude-go-getter types and....Oy Vay! 

 I've been on anti-depressants for 9 years now. I've struggled with depression since I was a kid. I'm not one of those people that minds taking a "happy pill" every day-no personal stigma attached or anything-but I just switched to another because my previous one was starting to let me down and this new one is like the 6th or 7th I've tried and I am frustrated that I can't just be happy without drugs!!! I read all these things about how exercise can help depression so much but when I exercise my bulging disks in my back and my Plantar Fasciitis in my feet make it so painful to move which just discourages me more. 

Complain...complain...complain...

Anyway, this is really just a therapy post for me so I'm sure it was a real snoozer for you :) but if you have any depression busting ideas let me know...

Movies and newborns...

On Friday The Hubster and I went on a date. We go every other Friday night and our FABULOUS babysitter comes and stays with the kids. On Friday we went for sushi and a movie. The sushi was SO good. I was craving more all weekend. The movie was cute. We went to see 'Happy Valentine's Day'. It had lots of great actors and was a fun chick flick. The only problem was about 20 minutes into it a couple sat down next to me with a newborn baby. I'm talkin' brand spankin' new (like so new I wanted to remind them about RSV season...). So tiny! I tell you it took all of my self-control not to beg them to let me hold that little creature! So then I started thinking about how much I miss The Pea being tiny and how I wish my pregnancies were healthier and I was saner so I could have another one. Then I found myself getting really sad. Like eyes-welling-up-trying-not-to-cry sad. I've mentioned before that babyhood has not been easy in the past. I have had major post-partum depression in the past and have a hard time with sleep deprivation. But with The Pea it was all SO much better! Yeah I still got tired and there were some hard moments, but for the most part I just couldn't get enough of her! She was such an angel baby. So I sat there thinking about how I will never have a newborn again and how I hate my stupid brain chemistry for inflicting chemical depression on me and I hate the High Blood pressure that always crops up and interferes with my pregnancies and then I was sad and frustrated! How come other people can handle 4,5,6 kids and they are healthy and happy and it took me having a third before I really enjoyed it and then it had to be over for me. Not to mention now that The Pea has hit toddlerhood I am having problems with depression again. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! I hope that it doesn't seem as though I don't love my kids, now or as babies. I do (and did). I really have like the coolest kids around. But I've never been good at being selfless with my time. I have no imagination left for playing. I have always been one that needed my time on a regular basis to stay sane and having a toddler that seems to be approaching the terrible two's a bit early and subsequently wants to hang on me while whining every where I go does not seem to help my mood any. I play with her, I read to her, I take her places and I know that all toddlers have a hard time when they can't communicate but boy is it wearing on me! I miss that sweet baby girl who cuddled and cooed and sat so peacefully when I needed to get something done. If I could have her funny personality and her tiny baby body all wrapped up in one it would be perfection!

Ya know, I read a lot of blogs (too many really) and a lot of those blogs have to do with families who have lost a child or have a very sick child to raise. The other day I read one where the mother who had lost her baby to a disease a few months ago wrote, "And I can't watch any kind of 'Baby Story' or 'Bringing Home Baby' show. And it's not out of sadness; I like to see cute little newborns. It's the parents I want to slap for their inability to realize the miracle of a perfectly healthy baby. "Oh my gosh this baby won't sleep and always cries!! How horrible!! I just want to get out of the house!!" Eh ........... just shut your mouths and take care of your kid. On the other hand it reinforces my faith that God gives the most special of babies to the most special of parents. If you're going to melt down over a couple weeks of colic; something like EB, or Downs Syndrome, or Autism would leave you crumbled on the floor."   I know that she is angry about her situation, I would be too! I know that she was not in any way meaning to hurt anyone's feelings and since she doesn't actually know me she was of course not talking to me. I think that it just hit home. Those are thoughts I have had about myself. Why do I have such a hard time when my babies are perfectly healthy. Colic is hard but it's not a disease or disability.  The thing is, I know I am blessed. I feel blessed. I just also feel frustrated! I feel like I was kind of robbed the first two times. I loved my first two babies but I didn't enjoy them and I wish so bad that I could go back and somehow change things. I watched every one else who just adored their babies and I heard people telling me what a blessing my baby was and how I shouldn't feel that way. I didn't want to be depressed. If I could have figured out how to avoid it I would have. My babies deserved better! I truly think that some of The Princess's anxiety issues stem from my mental state back when she was little. This is all getting a bit rambly (not a word...). I just feel jealous, and sad, and a bit jipped. I didn't feel baby hungry until we decided to have The Pea. I didn't ache to have another baby until now. Now it's too late. Now my body has decided to rebel in a big way. Now I have to let go of that hunger to have another baby when really, it just started for me.......


I hope this hasn't sounded ungrateful to anyone. That's not what I intended. I have good friends who would do anything to be able to get pregnant and then actually stay pregnant. I have seen their pain and do not take my ability to get pregnant easily lightly. I love my kids. I am SO blessed to have healthy children, not to mention I have been blessed not to have to let any of them go in this life. I don't take that lightly either. But well, this is MY blog and I needed to vent a little, so I did. Take it or leave it but please try not to misunderstand....